


Boundaries

by inatshej



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison, Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Cultural References, Demon Stiles Stilinski, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Getting Together, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Monsters, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inatshej/pseuds/inatshej
Summary: Stiles considers this world fucked up. Humans, werewolves, witches, they are all here, mixed up. It's such a mess. But then again, he is a demon, so not really one to talk. Not that anyone knows about it. Still, he has a chance now, and he will introduce the order here, he will make sure they all can live normally. Even if it kills him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was inspired by "9/10ths of the Law" written by tsukinofaerii. I've read it a few months ago, and even though I was weirded out at first at the concept of demon Stiles, this work convinced me it could be great. So, here is my try for that.
> 
> I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language. It would be nice to have a beta.

'Something's wrong with Beacon Hills. There are too many supernatural creatures coming here', says Derek.

Stiles can't help it. He snorts. He probably shouldn't, because it's not like the rest knows that he is a demon and his _sheer existence here_ is the proof of 'something wrong'. Plus, it's not just recently. This thing has been going on for at least 18 years, when Stiles got here by accident.

Well, presumably by accident. He doesn't really remember much before coming to Beacon Hills. He is sure there was something, but all he can recall are some scenes which don't make much sense. He isn't really worried about it: the lack of memories could be one of the consequences of living in this world.

Derek gives him a flat look, but noone else cares about his reaction. He's always been kind of weird. They decide that Scott and Stiles will visit Deaton tomorrow, prepare whatever it is they need and hopefully in two days the issue will be solved.

Yeah. Cause it always goes that smooth.

Well, it's fine for now. Lydia, for instance, doesn't seem to be really worried, and watches her nails. Derek turns to him and show him discreetly 5 fingers – it's their inside joke, a sign that Lydia has done it for the fifth time just this afternon. Stiles grins at him.

After the meeting he decides to stay behind with Derek. They've been friends with benefits for a while now, because Stiles wanted to try stuff, with Derek especially, but he couldn't date someone since, come on, he's a demon. Feelings don't mean much for him, they are just this stuff people say all the time. He can't really feel anything.

At first, of course, he was thinking about Lydia. She was the most interesting person he's ever met, so intelligent and simply perfect there was a time he was suspecting her of being a much older demon. But then some weird creature attacked Jackson, making him a kanima, Jackson broke up with her and she cried.

Stiles kind of gave up on her then.

It was a good thing he's met Derek, because Derek was definitely good-looking and more than unable to trust someone to date again. Perfect situation for friends with benefits.

When the pack is gone and they can't hear anyone anymore, Stiles smirks at him and comes up slowly, looking straight at Derek. When they are so close he can feel Derek's breath on his face and see his blown up pupils, he lets his hands ghost over the werewolf's body. His neck, chest, nipples, and Derek lets out the air, shivering. He leans in to smell his neck, and Stiles still can't believe that none of the werewolves has recognized his scent as non-human. Seriously. It was disturbing at first, but they kept meeting, they all got used to each other, he and Derek became friends, he suggested the whole benefits thing and _still nothing_.

Now, he lets his hands go down and palm Derek through his trousers. He'll blow him today. Not bothering to change the place, Stiles kneels and takes down Derek's pants, mouths him through the boxers, finally takes the whole length into his mouth. Derek's hands are already in his hair and he can hear the werewolf gasp at the sensation. He licks him thoroughtly, sucks the head, take the balls, sucks the head again.

Derek leans on the wall behind him and he won't last long before taking him to bed. He can be somewhat impatient at times, like with this vampire who suddenly emerged from the preserve and started killing off whatever he could, well, until Derek killed him. They weren't even able to communicate with the creature, the sounds he was making were completely incomprehensible.

That's when Deaton said that there must be some kind of portal, probably in the preserve, they need to close.

But now he is with Derek and they should both forget about it for a few hours to come back to this shit tomorrow. His whole life is fucked up, now that he thinks about it. Sure, he is used to being, well, appearing human, it's not bad, but he is a demon. He's got his own world somewhere else. Werewolves too, obviously, shouldn't live with humans. They must have come in here a long time ago, that's why they can coexist this easily, peacefully. But living like that, it's a mess. Everything mixing up, there is no order, no system.

Derek gets his neck in a stronger grip and Stiles takes more of him, completely forgetting anything besides Derek. He retreats and gets deeper again, repeats the motion, waiting for Derek's response.

It comes flatteringly quick. Derek takes him in his arms to go off to his bedroom.

Once on a matress, Stiles takes off his clothes and when Derek tells him to lay on his stomach he is pretty sure it's time for sex, but Derek rims him.

He feels his hot tongue trailing his cheeks, balls and entrence, getting further in. Soon enough, Derek is fucking him with his tongue, and Stiles' cock, hard by now, rubs the matress. He could come like that, and fisting the bedsheets he rolls his hips, widening his legs and exposing himself. It's such a vulnerable position, he should never display himself like that, but it's Derek, he knows he can give up the control when they are together.

He moans at the sensation and repeats the move, dragging his hips down and up. Derek grabs him to keep him in place, gives the last lick and takes out the lube. He will want to go slowly, watching Stiles come undone, breathing hard and squirming.

Stiles needs it to be quicker today and so he takes the bottle from Derek to squeeze some lubricate on his hand, then puts two fingers inside himself. Moves them, scissoring and thrusting. Soon, he can place the third one and Derek kisses him, silencing the sounds he makes, teasing his nipples, stroking his chest and shaft.

'I'm gonna ride you', pants Stiles, taking out his fingers and sitting up. Derek lays down on his back and Stiles straddles him, lining up his cock and slowly sitting on it. Derek puts his hands on his hips but doesn't make the pace faster. He'd be too worried about hurting Stiles.

Which, good point, because Stiles does have more strength than a normal human, but can't really use it. Except when he has to, like with the witches. He was lucky to be alone and could free himslef to weaken them with his magic, waiting for the pack's help. Back then also noone realized Stiles is a demon. He can't tell whether all these creatures around him are insensate or if he is just that awesome at acting.

He is all way down now and moves a bit which earns him a groan from Derek. He likes the sound of it, and decides to lay down on top of him to lick his nipples and roll his hips ever so slightly. Derek won't move, he knows, as much as he wants to – again with the fear of hurting.

He lifts himself a bit, then go downwards and it's such an electrifying sensation, he can't stop himself from repeating the movement again, raising more so that a thrust would be deeper, more forceful. He varies between rolling his hips and thrusting, moans at the different angles, and when he opens his eyes, he is rewarded with completely debauched Derek beneath him. He smirks and rolls his hips, seeing as Derek watches him hungrily.

'Stiles, please, can I-'.

Stiles smiles further and goes off Derek to change the position. The werewolf is behind him now and thrusts powerfully, keeping Stiles' neck, pining him to bed. He'd never do that if he wasn't sure that's exactly what Stiles wants, what Stiles asked him (so many fucking times) to do. But that's what Derek also needs, to feel like he's in control, then take care of someone.

Derek bites his neck and shoulders, not distrupting the rythm. Stiles rolls his hips again, just to see Derek's reaction. The werewolf groans nad hurries the thrusts, so Stiles repeats, then again, and again-

Derek comes inside him and lays besides Stiles, who can't keep still with his dick hard. He reaches his hand downwards, but Derek stops him.

'Don't use your hands'.

So, he's supposed to come just from rubbing on a matress. It's humiliating, but seeing Derek's intense gaze and feeling hot all over, that's what he does. Derek puts dildo slowly inside him. God, the werewolf knows him so well, he's predicted how arousing such situation would be for Stiles. When he moans, Derek gives him a finger to suck on, and by the time three of the werewolf's fingers are wet, Stiles thrusts quickly, gasping and whining, and comes finally.

'Good boy', murmurs Derek and kisses him, then reaches with his hand to Stiles' shaft to take some cum and put it in his mouth, staring at the liquid on red lips.

They lay like this for a while, then wash, eat a supper and decide to sleep. Stiles is completely relaxed and waits for the dream, in that phase between where he's not unconscious yet, but not really awake either. That's when Derek stiffens suddenly and sits up. Stiles blinks at him.

'What's the matter?'.

'Something's in a preserve'.

' _Les visiteurs?_ '.

Derek gets up and puts on some clothes. He takes his jacket, then freezes.

'I have to go'.

'What? Wait, I'll go with you and call Scott'.

Derek leaves and Stiles barely keeps up with him, the phone in his hand, explaining the situation to the friend.

Derek seems sick, horrified by whatever it is he can hear and halts unexpectedly. 'It's dead'.

'Well, we should still go see it, right?'.

Derek doesn't answer, but starts walking again. Stiles disconnects with Scott and soon, they see a body of a creature, probably a mermaid. Stiles watches her white, covered with scales body. It's sickening, seeing it's so clearly not adapted to live here and dead, but also mesmerizing in this dark green forest, like a fantasy painting.

Derek just stares at it for a long time.

'It couldn't survive here', said Stiles, looking at him.

'It wasn't supposed to come here'.

 _Neither were we_ , thinks Stiles, but remains silent, getting closer to bump their shoulders gently.

'I could hear the sounds it was making before death. I've never-', he stops himself.

Stiles laces their fingers and leans on the werewolf. Derek needs this stuff sometimes.

Scott comes and notices a flower and some kind of powder nearby. He hids both things to show them to Lydia. Stiles congratulates himself for keeping Scott alive all this years – when he first met him, they were both children, Scott was miserable because of some stuff at home and Stiles was thriving on his sadness. After a couple of days he was wondering how exactly and when to kill Scott, but he was called a friend. Whatever would happen, Scott was always on his side, like such a puppy. It was so unexpected, he kind of delayed his decision what to do about the boy for later. And then, well, he admitted that it just made more sense to keep him alive to feed from him for longer. Not that he does that now, it's kinda weird, unpleasent.

Just another reason he should be back to wherever he came from.

In the morning, Scott informs Stiles the powder is not from the Earth.

'So, it's a moon powder?', asks Stiles. Not much surprises him these days.

'Uh, no. Lydia said it's, uh, completely different. Like, outwordly different'.

'What about the flower? Is it alien too?'.

'Seems like that. Also, Lydia told me to tell you that your counting thing with Derek is puerile. Do you know what she meant?'.

Stiles laughs and shakes his head.

They report what they have found to Deaton, who just nods in answer and gives them a huge tome with some spells. He must be really concerned with the portal, because he even shows them which one to use and provides some of the ingredients.

Stiles goes to Derek's loft to translate the spell completely when the rest look for other vital stuff. He is thankful for being alone – the spell Deaton gave them won't really help. Something must be seriously wrong with Beacon Hills if, according to Deaton, all they can do is a clearing spell weakening supernatural creatures.

Not according to Stiles. He is a demon – he doesn't have to care about the lives as Deaton, and this time, he won't. He still remembers one of the spells from another Deaton's volume, but it will need human blood. It's dark magic – no wonder Deaton won't even think about using it. But Stiles has a chance of shutting Beacon Hills up and finally introduce some order here. Maybe they can ultimately live normal, everyday lives. He remembers the look on Derek's face when they found the mermaid – it was the same one he has each time the pack have yet another near-death experience. Stiles knows he has to seize this chance.

The next day, everything is ready. They discover some more unnatural stuff in the preserve and determine where the portal should be.

They can't see anything.

Stiles sighs and does a basic spell, drawing some blood from his wrist.

There is a gaping, black hole in the middle of the circle in which they stand. Everyone stares at it, except for Lydia.

'Stiles, what did you do?'.

Stiles shrugs and points at the portal. Lydia narrows her eyes.

' _How_ did you do that?'.

Stiles sighs again, although he knew someone would notice. 'It's dark magic, okay? I'll explain everything', he says quickly, raising his hands when others starts talking, 'okay? But later. First let's close this shit'. He glances at the portal.

Everyone turns to it and takes the fighting stance, waiting for Stiles to begin chanting. Stiles bites his lip and look at the pack, remembering all the best things about each of them. Then at Scott, who glimpses questioningly at him.

He averts his eyes. What is there to say? Then gazes at Derek, who stares right back.

Stiles smiles at him shakily.

'Thanks for everything'.

Then he starts chanting and draws more of his blood. It can't make such a difference, right? He's been living as a human for so long and he does have human body, it _has_ to work.

It only takes seconds to make him feel weak, then he needs to sit down, but continues the spell. He sees less and less, his vision hazy, unstable. He focuses only on the portal before him, feels strangely warm. Soon, he can only perceive dark spots and wonders briefly if it's the portal transforming or just him.

Suddenly, he feels someone touching his shoulder and moves to be left alone, he needs to finish the spell. He closes his eyes and chants all the same, though his mouth is dry and he can't focus on the sounds he is making anymore. This portal needs much more strength than he thought – he can only hope his life will be enough.

The last thing he remembers is something warm at the back, and his lips moving.

Then there is nothing. Some noise, sirens wailing, nothing. 'His head-', someone starts anxiously, nothing.

Nothing.

Silence, dark room and Derek besides him. He tries to turn to him and say something, but falls uncoscious again.

Next time is brighter, He blinks to see his dad and tries to say 'hi', gives up, goes to sleep.

There are some people visiting him. Scott and Allison, Lydia and Jackson, Erica and Boyd. He doesn't see Derek again. He drifts in and out of consciousness, catching some pieces of information: the closed portal, the pack knowing he's a demon.

When he wakes up yet again, his mind is clearer. He feels horrible.

He was supposed to die. He was supposed to finally do something good, because he is not as strong as the werewolves, he is not a banshee who can do anything, he is not even human to live here carefree.

He hates that he hoped to survive. That he is relieved to maybe see Derek, and Scott, and all the rest again, because he was happy here, although he shouldn't have.

He's never been this weak. It's terrifying. He is alone and tries to use some of his demon strength to sit up. It barely works.

He pants from the exhaustion, but manages to raise a bit. He is so occupied, freaking out about his demon self, suddenly this small, insignificant, he doesn't see Scott and Allison coming in.

'Stiles! Are you okay?', calls Scott, worried.

Stiles stares at him disbelievingly. 'Dude', he starts. 'I'm a demon. What the _fuck_ are you doing here?'.

Scott frowns. 'I'm visiting you. How are you feeling?'.

Stiles grimaces. Always with this word, _feeling_. 'I'm a demon, Scott', he repeats.

The boy doesn't seem to get the message. 'Well, yeah, I'm a werewolf. I don't really understand why you didn't tell us. Or me! Aren't we brothers?'.

'We are not brothers, Scott', grits Stiles through his teeth.

'Why?', he asks honestly.

'Because I'm not human!', shouts Stiles. He stares straight at the wall before him, realizing how loud he was in a silence that follows.

'I don't care', he hears Scott. 'I told you, I'm a werewolf'.

Stiles lets his eyes turn black. It's been a while since he could do that. It's been 18 years, actually. 'Fuck off. Leave me alone', he says lowly.

'This is creeping me out', says Scott.

'Why?', asks Allison, speaking up for the first time. 'You flash your eyes sometimes too, right? This is no different'.

They turn to stare at her, incredulous. Scott opens his mouth to say something just to frown, and close down eventually.

'Allison', starts Stiles, changing his eyes back. He needs to explain all this, but she was always alright with him. The least he can do is try to behave alright as well. 'I don't really feel anything. I don't feel friendship, or love, or jealousy, or sadness, or any of this crap'.

'That's bullshit', interjects Scott. 'You feel just fine. How many times did you save our lives?'.

'It's safer in a group'.

'You love Derek'.

Stiles scoffs. 'We are friends with benefits'.

Scott rolls his eyes. Allison touches his arm. 'Baby steps', she says quietly to the boy.

'You always help me with my studies', continues Scott.

'It's convenient to have you around'.

'I'd still be at school, even if I failed a year'.

Stiles clenched his fists. 'I do that for myself, not you'.

Scott simply laughed at that, shaking his head. When he is serious again, he looks at Stiles. 'Is the human you possessed still there?'.

'What?'.

'You're a demon, so you possess, right?'.

Stiles facepalmed. 'Dude, this is not _Supernatural_. I'm a demon and that means practicing dark magic, spiraling negative emotions out of control, feeding on sadness. Well, I guess I needed to do that in the world I lived in before, were everyone used magic, although I don't remember much of it. Now, it's pointless to do dark magic, it's too unpredictable and power-consuming, and negative emotions shit makes people go crazy and want to kill everyone around. My powers are _crap_. Except for susceptibility for magic in general. That's pretty awesome. Oh, and I took this body cause it was empty. This human', he grimaced, 'Stilinskis' son died. I haven't heard of _anything_ being able to possess someone. It's trash what humans believe in sometimes'.

'You're really not that different from us, then', observed Allison. 'You say you don't feel? Okay. I mean, there are people with alexithymia, asexual, aromantic. You do dark magic? Sure. There are werewolves, witches, banshees – can't you see you're just another part of this world?', she asked gently.

'I wasn't supposed to be here-'.

'But you _are_ here'.

'This world is for humans-'.

'We still have all kinds of creatures'.

'It shouldn't look like that!', he shouts again, belatedly realising he is shivering. Somehow in this moment he remembers the last words he said to Derek, his shaky smile, but quenches it down. He wants to get up and do something, however he stays and breathes in.

'Why? I'm okay with this world as it is'.

'How can you be okay with all the monsters-'.

'Are you calling my friends monsters?', asks Allison, her voice suddenly cold.

This shuts Stiles up. He stares at both of them, then turns away to the window. Eventually, they go out.

He can't get the conversation out of his mind. In a couple of days, trying to convince himself it has nothing to do with what Allison said, he checks all kinds of stuff on the Internet. Either this world is all messed up, or-

He closes his eyes. Pretends to sleep whenever someone visits, but for fuck's sake, noone gives up-

Derek still isn't here, but it's not like-

He is fucked up.

When he can finally go out of the hospital, his dad seems so tired. He remembers how he and Claudia have never gave up on him, even when he was behaving so differently, they kept trying to talk with him, to understand him.

He decides to cook dinner that night.

He prepares three special arrows for Allison. The spells were a bitch to do, but those arrows can be really helpful with whatever they will encounter next.

Though it shouldn't be anytime soon, as Deaton told him, giving him the books with the spells. They have closed the portal almost entirely – it's not possible to shut it down completely. They have managed that much because Stiles wasn't acting alone – the rest of the pack touched him and somehow, their energy flowed into him and, Jesus, magic is so confusing, chaotic, doesn't make any sense but still performs, creating some system just to change again, circulates despite everything.

Somehow, it works in this dissarray.

Like everything else, he decides, finally sitting with the pack at school.

It's been a couple of weeks when they finish the lessons and go through the park. It's sunny, warm, and Scott jokes about something that makes Stiles turn his eyes black and flip him off, on what the rest just laugh. Lydia watches her nails and he turns to Derek-

right, he is not there.

Still, it's okay. There are humans, werewolves, a demon, a bashee, and somehow they work together.

Derek didn't want to see _anyone_ at first. Physically, he was fine, but would go away if anyone tried to come closer. It's better now, though – he meets with the pack. He doesn't meet with Stiles.

It's fair enough, supposes Stiles. He did lie to all of them, it's only natural he won't be considered as the part of the pack anymore. He tries to not feel that hurt about it and fails.

Because he does feel. He always did. He was just denying everything with such conviction.

Soon, he will leave for a college and he needs to see Derek, at least this one last time. It's actually surprising he haven't run into him up till now, shopping, going to and from school, visiting library, meeting with the guys. Beacon Hills isn't that big, the werewolf must have really tried to avoid him.

He grimaces at the thought, but still drives into the preserve. He shuts down the engine and goes out of his Jeep. Takes a breath, patters his leg against the ground, straightens up, slumps down again, runs a hand down his face. Fuck, it can go into eternity like that.

'Hey, Derek', he starts and cringes. What a dumb thing to say. 'You can probably hear me from – wherever it is you are', he bites his lip. 'So, okay, I will just say what I want to say, and leave you alone, okay? You don't have to avoid me anymore. I'll be leaving for studies anyway', he shrugs, then remembers he is not seen and flushes. He feels so moronic.

'I'm sorry for not telling you, or anyone that I'm a demon. I was sure you would all want me dead if you knew'. He turns and leans on his Jeep, hands in the pockets. 'I'm sorry', he repeats.

He takes out his hands, takes a few steps, combs his hair. 'Fuck, if you want me to, I'll leave. I won't get in your way, I-,I understand I'm not pack anymore-', he stops suddenly, seeing Derek.

It's been so long. He missed him so much. He looks so familiar, yet unapproachable.

He realises all of a sudden he stared at the man for too long and averts his eyes. Blinks. Looks up again, and Derek's still there.

'Why didn't you tell me?', he asks so quietly Stiles isn't sure he understood the words.

It seems so easy now, to have came out clear. Aren't there all kinds of people, of creatures around them? And Derek, at least, would have understood. They were friends. They were so close, sharing _everything_ , except for what's most important.

He doesn't answer, but when the silence stretches, he finally admits, 'I don't know'.

Derek just looks at him for a moment. Then he bites out, suddenly angry, 'You didn't have to. We aren't – weren't friends'.

'We are', prostests Stiles weakly, raising his eyes pleadingly.

'We were fuckbuddies'.

'I love you', he blurts out, keeping his eyes on Derek.

They stare at each other, both too shocked to react at first. When Derek doesn't say anything, Stiles takes it as clear enough rejection. He turns away, get into the car, turns on the engine with shaky hands, avoids looking at Derek, and drives back home.

He waits at first, but after two weeks have passed without hearing from Derek, only _about_ him from their friends, he knows he should give up. He cooks, it helps clear his mind.

Maybe they can still meet at times, when the pack will need his magic – but they have Deaton, and Lydia.

He comes back home late one evening after a day spent in a library. He was learning about magic. He keeps questioning himself what's the point if he doesn't have a pack.

He climbs the stairs and opens the door to his bedroom, closes them, sighs, takes off his blazer and throws it on his bed, next to which is Derek.

Just like that, in his room.

When he doesn't say anything and Stiles gets his heartbeat under control, he can't help the word vomit that happens next. Stiles freaks out internally, managing to provide a good lecture on Californian law and what it says on the subject of tresspassing.

'You don't care about the rules', interjects Derek, standing still, looking at him.

'I do', denies Stiles. 'Sometimes'.

And just like that, Derek doesn't seem murderous anymore. 'I hoped you wouldn't', he says gingerly.

'Why?', asks Stiles, hating how hopeful he sounds, his heart speeding up again.

The werewolf is silent for so long, Stiles almost starts talking about the law enforcement just to talk about _something_.

'I'm a werewolf, I'm stronger than you', he starts eventually. 'You're 6 years younger than me, still in high school, your dad is a sheriff. You were never supposed to be here, you were _lying_ to us, to me for the past 2 years'.

'I can't-', he stops, looks away. 'I know why you didn't tell us. You were afraid to be rejected'. Derek pauses again, looks straight at Stiles to say, 'I know I shouldn't, I know I _can't,_ but I so fucking _want to be with you_ '.

Stiles looks right back, stunned into silence, then smiles just a little, can't tear his eyes away from the werewolf. He takes one step, then another, he rejects all the points until there is no space, no boundaries between them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
